Gandraxas and the Ring of Power
by Manila Keranu
Summary: This is a cross-over between LotR and the Traxas series by Martin Scott. Originally done for a 'what if LotR had been written by someone else' topic on a forum somewhere. Me, I like it. You, I hope you will too.


Gandraxas and the Ring of Power

'Another ale, Gandraxas?' Tom, the bartender asks.

'Well I ain't saying no to that, Tom,' I say and hold out my mug, which he fills.

'Where's Makragorn today, then?' I ask.

'Oh, he's off to the Ministry, trying to get them to acknowledge he's the last descendant of a royal family of some extinct race of men.'

'Again?' That Makragorn is obsessed with getting some acknowledgement for what he is, I know, but that it is getting this serious...

'He'll probably be back in no time,' Tom says, and even before he finishes, the door slams open and close and Makragorn bursts in, cursing in three different languages. He used to be a ranger, and traveled through many countries, so he knows his share of Elvish, Dwarfish, Orcish and most human languages. It's not really civilised language, though, because he met mostly thugs in those days. High Elvish would be a bit, well, too high for him.

I let him rage for a while, and then offer him a drink. He sits down, grumpily.

'They don't even give me a _chance_!' he says. 'As soon as I walk in they are determined to send me away again, as soon as they can.'

'Maybe you ought to do somehting about the way you dress,' I say. I have said that often enough, but he just doesn't listen.

'What's wrong with this?' he asks me.

'Well... you could lessen a bit on the chainmail, you know, change it for more normal clothes, and start wearing a bit more of those,' I suggest. He shrugs.

'I like this, and if anyone doesn't, that's their loss.'

'Are you gonna work yet?' Tom asks him. 'And you still haven't paid me back that money I lent you.'

'You'll get it, Tom,' Makragorn says. 'I promise.'

'Yes, but, when, is all I'm sayin'.' But Tom scuddles off to a new customer. In my opinion, he's not being hard enough to Makragorn. And Makragorn is wasting his time, going to the Ministry all the time, and those lessons of him. Time and money.

'I'm going up to my room,' I say, emptying my mug. 'I'll see you later.'

'Sure,' Makragorn says and gets up as well, getting ready to work.

Alone in my room, I dig up my pipe from the mess on the table, find my tabacco and then relax while the smoke does its stuff. I'm addicted, I know, and every once and a while I try to quit, but never really seriously.

Just then, of course, my doors gets blown open, and a dark shape fills the doorway. A whirlwind passes through my room, making it an even greater mess than it was before, and blowing me out of my chair.

'What the...' I say and manage to get up again.

'Oh, I'm sorry, Gandraxas,' a familiar voice says. 'My friend here's just a tad overenthusiastic. My apologies.' The dark shape has come into my room and now the doorway is occupied by Sarumanus the Colourful, an old friend from the days when I was studying for wizard.

'What brings you here?' I ask, eyeing the dark shape next to him suspiciously. All I can see is that it's clothed in black, and a black cap completely hides its face. It sends a shiver through my back.

'Well, actually, I need your help,' Sarumanus says. 'You see, a friend of mine has lost a... precious trinket, and he wants it back.'

'So why do you come to me?'

'Because this friend of mine thinks it has been stolen, and well, aren't you a great detective?'

A detective, yes. Great, not really. But money's always welcome.

'Tell me some more,' I say.

'Well, it's a gold ring, very plain actually, no decorations or anything. But it has a great emotional value for my friend, and he really wants that ring back.'

'Does he have any idea who took it? Where did he last see the thing?' Sarumanus hesitates, slightly. But just a tad too long.

'He... thinks it could have been elves. They're always after beautiful jewelry and such, and apparently some elves offered to buy the ring once, but he refused to sell it. Maybe they stole it.'

Right. Kinda fishy, if you ask me.

'And who is this friend of yours?' I ask. 'I need to know that, to be able to find it.'

'Lord Sauronius,' Sarumanus admits uneasily. 'But he prefers to stay out of the picture.'

'Of course,' I say.

'Well? Do you accept the mission?'

'What do I get paid?'

'Plenty.'

'Alright, then. I accept.' Sarumanus smiles. 

'Great, we owe you big time. I'll just go tell the good news.' And within seconds he and his eerie friend are gone.

I sigh and look around my room. What a mess. Oh no, my tabacco's all spread out across the floor, now it's useless. I'll have to buy some more.

The door opens again and Makragorn comes in.

'What happened here?' he asks.

'And old friend of mine and a overenthusiastic companion,' I answer. 'They want me to find a ring.'

'That's good, a new mission,' Makragorn says.

'Yeah, well I'm not so sure...' and then the door opens for the _third_ time, this time revealing two long shapes in hooded coats.

'Master Gandraxas?' the tallest one asks, and I hear from his voice that he's an elf. I don't get that many elves visiting me. Probably has something to do with the neighborhood. Not clean and beautiful enough for them.

'Who's asking?' I reply, and they pull down their hoods. It's a man and a woman, both tall and dark-haired.

'My name is Elrond,' the male elf says, 'and this is my daughter Arwen. Are you Gandraxas?'

'Yes, I am. And this is my friend Makragorn.' I notice the stare between Makragorn and Arwen. They seem to like each other.

'We need your service,' Elrond says, 'in the search for something we've lost a long time ago. It is utterly important that we find it. Or rather, that you find it.'

It? With Sarumanus's visit still fresh in my memory, I get an eerie suspicion about what these elves are about to ask of me.

'Let me guess, is it a small ring, gold, undecorated, plain but of great emotional value?' I say. Elrond looks surprised, as far as an elf can look like anything.

'Yes, how do you know?' Should I tell them? Sarumanus thought it were elves that stole the ring, but now there are two elves asking me to find the very same thing. Something isn't right here.

Still, elves are considered quite respectable, and although lord Sauronius is incredibly rich I've heard he's not a very nice person. The elves are probably safer. Safe enough, that is only to be seen. So I tell them about my earlier visit, and it clearly disturbs them.

'It is fortunate that we have found you now,' Elrond says. 'You musn't give that ring to Lord Sauronius, it will only bring disaster! You must bring it to us the moment you find it.'

'If Sauronius is involved I'm likely to get into trouble,' I say.

'We will protect you as good as we can, that is, against any legal measures. It would only be the fair thing to do. And of course, we will pay you double of what Sauronius offered.'

Well, well, that's nice to hear.

'Great,' I say. 'Don't worry, sir, I will find you that ring.' The elves smile and leave.

'Well, that was interesting,' I say while I pick up my chair from the ground and sit on it. Makragorn stops staring at the door through which Elrond and his beautiful daughter Arwen have disappeared, takes another chair and noses through a newspaper he picked off my floor.

'Which one do you think is telling the truth?' he asks me.

'Probably none of them,' I shrug. 'Although I'd sooner bet on the elves than on Sauronius. I think this might actually work out well. I just have to avoid getting arrested.' I always get arrested during my investigations. Somone Up There seems to really hate me.

'Well, as long as you don't accidentally kill Sauronius's new pet Balrog, you'll probably be fine,' Makragorn says.

'Pet what?'

'Balrog. Look.' He hands me the newspaper. Lord Sauronius has bought a Balrog, shipped in from the east, a ferocious flaming creature.

'I'm beginning to like Sauronius more and more,' I say sarcastically. 'A Balrog! What's becoming of this world?'

'At this rate, it'll soon be something like your floor,' Makragorn says and notices the tabacco. 'You still smoke that stuff? It's bad for you.'

'Yes, we all know you study medicine and loads of other stuff,' I say. 'Just let an old man have his pleasures, is all I'm sayin'.' Makragorn shrugs.

'So, what do we do?' he asks.

'For starters, I'm going downstairs to have a drink. And tonight we're going to pay Sauronius a little visit. I want to know just a little more about him. This ring's worth more than both he and those elves claim, so I'm not gonna stick my nose into anything I don't know shit about.'

'Shouldn't you clean this up?' Makragorn asks as we leave my room and go downstairs.

'Nah, you'll see, just as soon as I've cleaned it all up, someone else bursts into my room and makes it a mess. For some reason, people like to do that.'


End file.
